


A Bond Most Baffling

by BenSomeday



Series: Supernatural Star Wars [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Demon Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Nerdy Ben Solo, Rey Hates Clothes, Rey is a Tease (Star Wars), Supernatural Bonds, witch ben solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenSomeday/pseuds/BenSomeday
Summary: Ben Solo doesn't have a Bonded. He's the only witch he's ever heard of not to have one. He's tired of it. He's tired of being alone. An ill-gotten book and perfectly performed incantation later and Ben finds himself saddled with the most infuriatingly sexy problem he's ever had to deal with.Oh, poor Ben Solo, whatever will he do?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Supernatural Star Wars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198754
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	1. A Solitary Witch is Destined for Idiocy

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete and I will be uploading a chapter every couple of days. I've gone ahead and created a collection that this story belongs to because there will be others along a similar vein (they are just begging to be written).
> 
> This piece is a bit of an experiment for me. I wanted to work on humor and I hope I succeed in making you laugh!
> 
> See end of work for translations.
> 
> Enjoy! And thank you for reading!

Universal truths are just that; they exist, they are fact and there is nothing that can be done to change them. Universal truth: A single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. Universal truth: The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you. Universal truth: Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion.

Universal truth: A witch born to witch holds power far too great to bear alone and so a Bond must form, else the witch become too powerful, endangering even themself.

When Leia Organa and Han Solo married, it was a scandal. Leia, a witch born to witch, was powerful, awe-inspiring and highly respected. Han, a shifter  _ made  _ was...not. Oh, not to say he wasn’t powerful for, indeed, he was; surprisingly so since, ahem, he was not born a shifter but, rather, an accidental one (and make no mistake, it  _ was  _ an accident, a most deliciously intriguing one as well, but enough about that). While such things as Han Solo’s inadvertent fall into the world of magic were discussed behind closed doors in hurried and hushed whispers, none dared speak of such business in front of the Organa-Solos, no indeed. Suffice it to say that, upon the glorious eve the couple birthed their son, the fact that he was a witch like his mother was no surprise. The fact that he never Bonded?

_ ‘Well,’ _ they would whisper,  _ ‘can you really act surprised? After all, his father…’ _

Regardless, it was a blow to the Matron Solo to see her only child grow up alone. She feared for him and, as his power grew, she began to fear for others as well. Still, her sweet Ben handled his power admirably, learned quickly and, over time, her fears lessened until, eventually, she forgot all about her son’s missing Bond (except for any time he was around) and let her worries fade (until the next time she saw him, anyway).

Yes, Ben Solo was truly an anomaly. After all, there may be universal truths but, too, there are exceptions that prove the rule.

*****

Ben sneezed. Then, he sneezed again. And once more. Oh, no, two more times, and…

“Ugh,” he sniffled, nose attempting to drip and throat tight, “mothballs...why did it have to be mothballs?”

He pulled his handkerchief from the breast pocket of his vest and dabbed at his upper lip and nostrils, snorting the mucus running from his right one back in and then choking when it went too far and hit the back of his throat. He pivoted to the sink and spit, cleared his throat, and spit again. He dabbed his nose one last time and laid the now dirty kerchief on the counter to be dealt with later. He turned back to the cutting board and took up the small paring knife again, attempting to hold his breath as he delicately sliced the mothballs into thin slivers before stacking the slivers and crushing them with a larger blade. Glad to be done with that, he pushed the offensive ingredient to the side and reached for the moonstone powder.

His cauldron bubbled happily at the other end of the counter, the sweet scent of rose hips and grated orange peel giving way to the smoky undertones of the ash wood shavings he had added only a few minutes before. He glanced quickly at it and then the book, never stopping his hands from shaking the moonstone powder through the sifter to remove any imperfections.

_ Once the ash wood has been added, the potion should fade from bright coral to a muted yellow. Be sure to keep stirring occasionally so the ash wood dissolves evenly throughout. After three minutes, add the finely crushed mothballs to the cleaned moonstone power and blend thoroughly, then shake the mixture into the cauldron slowly while stirring. Your potion should turn vibrant purple then brilliant sapphire. At this point… _

Ben felt it before it happened. Attempting to keep from disturbing his ingredients, he swiveled his upper body away from the counter and let out another sneeze. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to release the stirring rod he had been using on the potion and the violence of his sneeze caused his whole body to shake. The stirring rod, freed from the potion when he turned, wobbled in his hand and several drops of the potion splattered onto the previously clean counter. The hand holding the still sifting moonstone powder jolted with the sneeze and a large puff flew from the bowl into his face and hair.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment, save the still boiling cauldron, as Ben surveyed the damage. He carefully set the stirring rod to the side and placed the sifting bowl on the quartz countertop, freeing his hands to brush the powder from his skin. Unfortunately, while doing so, he sneezed again, even harder than before, rocketing his body into the counter, hitting the moonstone powder with the hand that had flown out to steady him, and sending the entire bowl arse-over-teakettle to the floor on the other side of the island where it landed on the brick floor with a loud clatter.

Ben groaned.

“Mothballs,” he sniffled, pinching the bridge of his nose and huffing out a put upon sigh, “Why did it have to be mothballs.”

*****

Ben didn’t really mind not having a Bonded growing up. Sure, it was strange and, yes, people did talk but Ben did his best to ignore it. Still, he wondered what it was like. The other children, those that were witches born, had Familiars or Shadows or Daemons, depending on the type of witch they were. Witches prone to potion-making and brew-magic tended to have Familiars: spirits that took on the form of animals, usually, though sometimes insects. Familiars were excellent brewing partners, capable of gathering, prepping and even testing ingredients for their witches. Those more drawn to intricate spell-casting and rituals were more likely to have Shadows: spirits that took no real form but shared their ability to temper or grow magical output as needed with their witch while guarding their witch while they cast. Daemons generally came to witches with an inclination toward the more physical magics. The witches that had a natural affinity with nature, for instance, able to grow gardens even the most industrious fae would be envious of. Daemons were guardians as well, though all familiars shared that trait, but they were not only interested in guarding their witch but the manifestations of their witches’ powers. Ben had seen many a Daemon patrolling the garden or pond or quarry of such witches. Indeed, his own quartz countertop, the very best type for use with magic due to its purifying properties, had come from the quarry of Finn, a witch he had grown up with that gravitated to the rocks and metals of the earth. His Daemon, Storm, was a swift, bulky thing of muscle and white fur that took its duty very, very seriously.

Ben had witnessed what happened to those that attempted to intrude upon Finn’s territory once. It had not been pretty and he was relatively sure that the witch that had tried to take some of Finn’s cobalt without asking was still trying to regrow his arm.

He sighed and looked down at the spellbook in his lap. He wondered, if this worked, what kind of Bonded he would end up with. Ben was an adept brewer, well-skilled with spell-casting, and was drawn to winter-based flora. Without a clear direction to follow based on his Bonded, Ben had learned all magics with the intensity one generally only gave to their chosen magic. Therefore, he was rather formidable at them all. Still, he felt giddy. He was excited, nervous and not a little scared what awaited him at the conclusion of this spell.

If it worked.

Ben had his doubts. Big ones. The spellbook he had found this particular incantation in was not one he had ever seen or heard of before. He had been visiting his father’s friend, Maz, to return some other books he had previously borrowed, when he saw it there, sitting innocuously on her coffee table. It was a strange little thing, no bigger than one of his, admittedly large, hands, and the cover and binding were made of some sort of weathered, leathered plant protein. Curious, Ben had sidled over to it while Maz was in the other room, spooning a good portion of citrine tea leaves into a jar for him to take home. He poked at the book then, when it didn’t appear to do anything dangerous or odd (as magical books are wont to do on occasion), he opened it. The first page was blank but the second page was an index of the chapters and one caught his eye:  _ Summoning and Forging a Bond _ .

Ben grimaced as he remembered pocketing the book without a second thought just before Maz came back with his tea. He had thanked her quickly and hightailed it out of there, sweat breaking out along his neck at his audacity.

That had been nearly a week ago and, well, Maz hadn’t said anything, hadn’t come to his home to break down his door and demand her property back.

Still.

Ben lifted the goblet, gold and heavy, and peered inside. The potion stared back at him, a healthy emerald and smelling of lavender, rain and cool autumn breezes. Sucking in a deep breath, Ben leaned up on his knees from where he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor in his casting room and tipped the cup, allowing the thin liquid to escape. He moved slowly and carefully, double-checking each line he drew with the potion and watching in fascination as it began to sparkle atop the quartz floor. First came The Five Points, representing the five magical beings: witches, shifters, fae, spirits and demons. Once he was satisfied with the star, he moved on to the Directional Square, each cardinal point hitting its true direction perfectly. The star, framed by the square, sizzled. 

Ben breathed in, allowing the scent of the potion to wash over him. He glanced in the cup and grinned. Just enough left for the Circle of Life, that which connected all things living, dead, or otherwise. He kept his hand steady, moving his long arm in an arc over the center of the star and watched the small circle take form in the middle of the sigil. As the circle was completed, the potion began to glow, brighter and brighter until Ben had to squint against the gleam. He turned quickly and set the goblet down before reaching for the book. He drew his ceremonial knife and swiftly slit his palm, watching with satisfaction as blood began to seep from the wound. Then, he flipped to the page with the spell he needed, stood, and began to read aloud.

“ Tha mi gad ghairm, spiorad mo spiorad, anam m ’anam. Tha mi gad ghairm agus gad iarraidh, nì mi Ceangal ort, a-nis agus gu bàs.”

He repeated the spell three times as he walked the circumference of the sigil, holding his left hand out over it and allowing his blood to drip onto the potion. At the end of the third recitation, he stilled, standing at the top point of the star, the Demon’s Point, and waited. Shaky hands stuffed the spellbook into his pant pocket and pulled a new handkerchief out. Fumbling and anxious, he wrapped the smooth silk around the cut hand and tied it into a loose knot. Still, he waited.

Several minutes passed and Ben began to lose hope. Perhaps he simply wasn’t meant to be Bonded. Perhaps he was supposed to be alone. His throat closed up and he willed himself not to cry. He supposed this was fine. If it had worked, the spirit might not have liked him and probably would have demanded to be released. He would then have had to cast the reversal spell on the next page of the book and that involved even more mothballs. All the mothballs.

Ben shuddered.

His leg lifted, prepared to move back and take him away from the sigil, away from his failure, when the potion began to hiss. Ben sucked in a steadying breath, eyes wide. The hissing grew louder and the liquid bubbled angrily. Suddenly, a blinding light erupted from the sigil and Ben stumbled back. A loud noise, almost like an explosion, shook the entirety of his house and he fell on his arse in fear, scrambling backward in a crabwalk while watching the light rise from the floor, creating a sort of enclosure. A shape began to form within it. Ben squinted against the powerful glow, trying to make it out. Without warning, the light grew so bright he had to slam his eyes shut for fear of going blind from it. He heard what sounded like another explosion, body shuddering along with his house at the force of it.

Then, silence.

Behind his eyelids, Ben realized that the room had gone dark, or, at least back to normal. Cautiously, he opened his eyes. His sight was blurred, dark spots dancing over his vision, striking him with a sense of vertigo. He took in a shuddering breath while he waited for his eyes to refocus. As they did, the shadow that had been inside the light tunnel became more and more clear to him. For a moment, he thought it might be a Familiar. He was sure the thing swishing in the air was a tail but the body of the thing was large, far larger than any housecat Ben had ever seen. Perhaps it was a jaguar or a panther?

Sight coming back to him more quickly now, Ben realized with growing horror that the being was not, in fact, a cat, of any kind. It was a...person? He cocked his head in confusion. Maybe...maybe it was a Shadow, taking a human-like shape to appear less threatening? Ben shook his head and blinked, clearing away the last of the spots. He opened his eyes and, yup, that was a person. A female person.

In shock, Ben allowed his eyes to trail over the woman. Through the still receding darkness, he could tell that she was seated, leaning on one hip and arm with her legs curled to the side. Her hair was a dark, warm brown. Her eyes he thought might be brown too, or, perhaps, hazel. The low light in the room, and the residual effects of the blinding light from the spell, washed the woman in a haze, not really allowing him to see detail too closely but he was almost certain she had freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was soft and perfect, not too full, not too thin. Ben’s eyes travelled lower, focusing intently to see in the dim lighting and he let out a choked sound before turning away from her completely.

She was  _ naked _ .

Behind him, he heard a laugh. It wasn’t a wholly unpleasant laugh but it reminded him of icicles cracking and splitting after a long snow storm, making Ben shudder. Ben glanced over his shoulder, then spun back around slowly, forcing his eyes to remain on the woman’s face. That was when he saw it again, the tail. It rose up behind her, a thin, slick, black thing that came to an arrow-like point and looked wicked even from several feet away. Sudden dread clenched his heart and he moved his eyes back to her face, then darted them up quickly, hoping he wouldn’t see…

Shit. Horns. Tiny ones, sure, but there all the same. The little black appendages rose from beneath her pretty hair, gently curving inward. They couldn’t have been more than an inch and a half or two inches long and yet, there they were.

Ben gulped. His eyes flashed back down to her face. She grinned at him and he knew she was laughing at him. He gulped again.

“Uh,” he tried to speak but couldn’t even begin to think of what to say.

How in the hell? What? This wasn’t supposed to happen! How did this happen? The spell was supposed to summon a spirit connected to the magical realm not...not...

“You,” his voice came out somehow both rough and high and he had to clear his throat, “you...you are...a...demon?”

It came out like a question. What. An.  _ Idiot _ .

She laughed loudly this time, throwing her head back which forced her chest forward, drawing his gaze to her very naked breasts. Ben made a noise he would deny to his dying day, something between a squeak and a yelp that only made her laugh harder. Ben’s body was warring with itself by this point, unsure of it was fear or arousal it should be focusing on. Ben’s mind, however, was stuck on  _ ‘naked, there’s a naked woman in my house, a naked demon, female demon, naked female demon, oh fuck, oh fuck, what do I do, oh fuck’ _ .

The she-demon’s laughter slowed, then stopped and she tilted her head back down to look at him, smirk still in place. Smoothly, lithe, like a cat, she slid her upper body forward and leaned over. The change in position brought her onto all fours, her bottom slightly lower than her shoulders and she purred at him. Purred!

“Hello there,” she said. Her husky voice made Ben’s body jolt and decide, yes, we do in fact want to focus on arousal. She grinned wider, as though she could tell he was having such thoughts. “You summoned me?”

Ben knew he must have looked the fool. Sprawled out and leaning as far away from her as he could, his eyes wide and heaving lungfuls of air into his body through his mouth, he wasn’t sure he had two brain cells left to rub together, let alone give any kind of coherent answer to her likely rhetorical question. He snapped his jaw shut, refusing to let this strangely human looking demon get the better of him.

Wait. Human looking.

“You look like a woman,” he said, stupidly, apparently, judging by the way she rolled her eyes at him.

“I am a woman,” she said. Her tone made it clear she thought him quite daft.

“Uh, no,” Ben countered, against his better judgement because, seriously, who in the hell argues with a demon? (Pun not intended, thank you). “You’re a demon. Demons are…” he waved a hand at her, a bit at a loss, “not female...or male...or...uh…”

The demon snorted. “Stars, you are stupid.” She said and leaned back, settling herself into a seiza position and leaving her breast and...other things...on full display again. “Of course demons are male and female and anything and everything in between.”

Ben gaped at her. “But...but...no! I’ve seen the pictures. Demons are human in shape but there is no gender distinction and your skin is all black or grey and you definitely don’t have those!” He cried, pointing to her perky breasts.

She tilted her head, regarding him with the kind of interest one might expect to see from a cat observing the mouse it was about to make it’s lunch.

_ ‘The feline comparisons are getting out of hand,’  _ Ben thought.

“Ah,” she finally responded, “you’re talking about our Fright Forms.”

Ben blinked at her.

“I’m sorry, what? Did you just say fright forms?” He asked.

The demon nodded and moved so she was sitting lotus style. The air Ben gasped in arrived so quickly he choked on it and began to cough violently, begging his eyes to look away from her...her...down there.

His eyes ignored him, most stubbornly.

“Hey,” she snapped her fingers right in front of his face, startling him out of his coughing fit. “You gonna go and die on me, witch?”

She appeared to be entirely nonplussed about her state of undress. Ben fidgeted in place, wondering if she would be offended if he asked her to put on some clothes. She rolled her eyes at him again, raised her hand and snapped her fingers three times in succession. A black robe, short and satiny, appeared and she wrapped it around her body.

“Better?” She asked him mockingly.

“Uh, yeah, yes, thank you,” he replied.

His face was burning. How she had known that her nudity made him uncomfortable, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

Shit. What if she could read his mind?

“I can,” she said drily.

At that, Ben fainted.

*****

Ben opened his eyes to find himself lying on the sofa in his living room. He barely fit on it as it was but, evidently, he had dropped onto it without care because his legs were half hanging off the cushions and his body was contorted at an awkward angle. He groaned as he sat up, wondering what in the hell had happened.

“Hey!”

“Shit!”

Ben fell from the couch, banging his head on the coffee table on the way down. He clutched one hand to his forehead and looked up. Hanging over the far arm of the sofa was the demon. Well fuck. It hadn’t been a dream. She was still wearing the luxurious looking robe, thank goodness, and had what appeared to be a piece of beef jerky clutched in between her pink lips. She regarded him with a raised eyebrow, hazel (they were definitely hazel) eyes sparkling with mirth.

Ben sighed and sat up.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked huffily.

The demon snorted and pulled the jerky from her mouth but not before clutching it between her sharp little teeth and tearing off a large bite. Ben winced.

“Uh, you called me here with some kind of Binding spell, you moron,” she said, impatience warring with derision at his stupidity, “I can’t go anywhere.”

Ben opened his mouth and then closed it, then opened it again.

“Right,” he said, standing, “right.” He brushed his hands over the seat of his now wrinkled slacks and walked with as much bravado as he could back into the kitchen. The demon followed behind him, clearly curious. “I just need…”

He stopped and took in the damage to his kitchen. Every cabinet and cupboard was standing open. The refrigerator door was also wide open. A cereal box lay on the floor, crumpled and obviously empty. The milk carton was laying on the counter, the last few drops slipping from the open mouth and onto the floor. Various packages and containers were scattered over every surface, each one looking as though it had been mauled by a particularly ravenous bear. Slowly, Ben turned to the demon standing calmly at his side, still munching on the beef jerky.

“What in the hell did you do to my kitchen?” He growled, speaking every word slowly and forcefully.

She turned her head to look up at him, blinking innocently.

“I was hungry,” she said, shrugging, and snapped off another bite from the jerky strip in her hand.

Ben gaped at her.

“So you ate all of my food? Everything?”

He walked the rest of the way into the room, running his hands through his hair and muttering to himself about the mess.

The demon trotted along behind him, still munching on her ill-gotten snack.

Ben surveyed the room more closely. He pulled his trash bin from inside the pantry and began throwing away the boxes and bags that the little she-demon had annihilated in her quest to fill her, apparently, bottomless belly. When he rose from the floor with a pile of empty ramen packages in his hands, he looked up at the demon. She was turned away from him, examining his potion workstation. It was then that Ben realized that her robe did not have a hole for her tail and the material was gathered over the base of the strange appendage, which left her deliciously round bottom bare to his gaze.

He pulled his eyes away from the tempting sight and continued cleaning, regretfully tossing the empty Oreo package into the trash and mentally making a list of what he would need to replace when he went back to the grocery store. The demon began to hum under her breath as Ben worked, making him angrier than he knew was reasonable. He stamped his ire down as best he could, just wanting to finish this task before moving on to the business of getting rid of the menace leaning against his counter, bum on display and swaying to music only she could hear.

“Done,” he announced a few minutes later, causing her to turn to him expectantly, “now, we get the counter spell done and send you back,” he waved a hand at her, “to wherever you came from.”

She grinned at him. “You mean...Hell?” She asked, both eyebrows rising to her hairline in a look of faux innocence.

Ben scowled. “Yes. That.” He said, pointing at her decisively.

He moved over to his brewing station and pulled the tiny book from his pocket, opening it and flipping through it to the chapter that contained the Summoning and Binding spell. He found the one he had cast to bring the demon to him and read over it again. Nothing in the description, ingredients or chant should have called a demon. Nothing. With a sigh, he turned to the other page that held the reversal spell. If the one brought her here, the other should send her back.

“Hmm.”

Ben froze. The demon was looking at the book, leaning into him and resting her cheek on his bicep.

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” she said.

Ben scoffed.

“Of course it will work,” he snapped and pointed to the original spell, “this spell is the one I used to summon you here and this one is to counteract or reverse that spell. It will work.”

The demon shrugged, like she didn’t care if it worked or not. Ben rolled his eyes. He moved away from her, causing her to lose her balance and have to grip the counter to keep from falling. Her tail lashed quickly from side to side, indicating her irritation with him. Her narrowed eyes made him swallow and he looked away, clearing his throat.

No use in making her want to murder him before he got rid of her.

For the next hour, Ben sliced, diced, chopped and sifted the ingredients for the reversal incantation, keeping one eye on the demon the whole time. She looked on, interest in what he was doing sparking in her eyes. When it came time to crush and then powder the mothballs, Ben sighed. He pulled them over and tossed them into the mortar, taking up the pestle with great reluctance. As he applied pressure to the hateful things, his nose began to twitch. He was ready for the first sneeze and the second but, soon, he was overwhelmed to the point of coughing. He shoved the bowl away from him and fell to a crouch, feeling like he was hacking up his lungs. When the fit finally subsided his eyes were watering and his nose was running like a river. He used his hand, still wrapped in the handkerchief, to wipe at it and glanced up.

The she-demon was leaning over from her place on the other side of the island, peering down at him with a nearly expressionless face. Only the tiny quirk of one eyebrow gave any indication that she might be concerned or interested in his unfortunate and embarrassing display. Ben stood, on shaky legs, and gestured to the mortar.

“Mothballs,” he said, hoarsely, “I’m allergic.”

The demon’s eyebrows shot up.

“You picked an incantation that required a potion that uses an ingredient you’re allergic to?” She asked and Ben wondered if she might actually be worried about him. That small and bewildering hope was mercilessly killed with her next words. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

Ben glared at her.

“I had no choice,” he growled, gaining an interesting reaction from the demon and he watched a pale flush steal over her neck and che… “Shit!” He cried. “Can you  _ please  _ cover up?”

The demon looked down and snorted. Still, she obliged and pulled the edges of her robe back over her exposed breasts, tying the belt off with a huff.

“What do you mean you had no choice,” she asked, “you could have just used an incantation that didn’t require that particular ingredient in its potion.”

Ben was shaking his head before she finished talking.

“Look, for most potions and incantations, yes, there are more than one option, sometimes,” he allowed, “but not this one. This is the only incantation I have ever seen that does... _ this _ .”

He shoved the book toward her and went back to crushing the mothballs, grateful to be done with them quickly. The demon was leaning over the counter again, reading over the spell that he had cast what seemed like a lifetime ago to summon her into his home. Ben poured the mothballs into the cauldron and stirred, counting silently to himself with each pass. When he got to fifty, he removed the stirring rod and set it aside. He poured the unicorn saliva into the cauldron, waited until the mixture turned orange, and then began to spoon it into a silver chalice.

“So, wait,” the demon started. Ben looked up at her. Her nose was scrunched and he nearly whacked himself on the back of the head for thinking she looked adorable. “You are trying to create a Bond with a spirit? You’re a witch born to witch, I can tell. I can smell it. That means you must have been born with a Bond. What happened to your first one?”

Ben looked away from her, hating the shame that colored his face. He hadn’t had to explain his...situation...very often. Only when someone new arrived in the town in which he lived, really. Everyone else, well, they had always known, from the moment he was born.

“Nothing,” he said softly, then amended his statement, admitting, “I never had one.”

When the demon didn’t reply, he looked back at her. Her eyes were wide and he realized that she was truly, completely, stunned. Ben shook his head, refocusing on the potion in his hand. He moved away from the island and headed back to his casting room. Faintly, he heard the whisper of the demon’s steps behind him.

Once back in the casting room, Ben set to work. The sigil from the first incantation was still burned into the floor, where it would remain until he used cleansing crystals to clear it away. That was good though. He had to lay the new sigil over the first in order to reverse the spell. He started with the circle this time, drawing a new one in the opposite direction that he’d created the first one. Then came the four cardinal points. He started to the West and ended at North, a perfect reversal of the original. When it came to the star, Ben paused. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he had started with Witch and ended with Demon or vice versa. He shook his head at himself and reached for the book. The instructions were very clear. He moved over to the Demon Point and began to draw.

He could feel the demon’s eyes on him the entire time and hated that it made him feel warm.

When he was done and standing at the Witch Point, Ben looked up at her.

“Come stand in the center of the circle and star,” he said, “I’ll chant the spell and it will send you home.”

Shockingly, the demon looked a little reluctant but did as he bid anyway. She plastered a smirk on her face, though one not nearly as convincing as he was sure she meant it to be.

Taking a deep breath, Ben began speaking. He moved back around the sigil the opposite direction as the first time. The demon turned in place, following his progress. 

“Mar a ghairm mi thu, a-nis tha mi gad chur sìos. Bidh mi gad leigeil ma sgaoil agus a ’briseadh seo, Ceangal spiorad gu spiorad, anam gu anam. Tha do spiorad saor. Tha d ’anam gun cheangal.”

By the time he was done casting, Ben’s voice had faded almost completely, barely audible through the last line. This time, there was no glowing. There was no spitting of the potion. No bright and blinding light. Instead, Ben watched as the demon graced him with a small, shy smile when the sigil began to writhe around her. As she began to fade, Ben fought the strange urge to reach out and snatch her from the sigil and into the safety of his arms. Just before she disappeared completely, she spoke.

“Rey,” she said softly, “My name is Rey.”


	2. A Demon Most Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone reading, leaving comments and kudos! I appreciate it so much!
> 
> I had so much fun with this chapter. I hope you enjoy!

The rain hadn’t let up since that morning. It had started before the sun rose and continued, without rest, through the day. The shallow streets were awash and every car that drove by threatened a tidal wave over the poor saps rushing quickly along the sidewalks. Ben was one such sap. He splashed his way home from the Apothecary, wishing he had thought to bring some silkworm bile with him so he could cast a water repelling spell. Oh well.

The events of the previous day had left him feeling more than out of sorts. After the demon, Rey, had vanished, Ben had wobbled his way from his casting room to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He had fallen asleep within seconds. He had not dreamed. When he woke the next morning, his head had ached something fierce and it took every ounce of energy he had to stumble into his bathroom to grab and down one of the many allergy potions he kept on hand. Once he was feeling a little less like death, Ben had slumped onto the edge of his bed, head in his hands.

A demon. Somehow, he had summoned a demon. A beautiful, sexy, infuriating demon. Shit.

A car horn startled Ben from his thoughts and he hastened his pace once he caught sight of his front door, the lively blue yet peeling paint calling to him like a siren. He shuffled through his front gate and up the cobblestone path, then jumped to the front stoop, bypassing the two steps up to it entirely. His wards fell and he shoved his door open, sighing in relief as the warmth from the roaring fireplace in the living room seeped into his bones. He shivered at the effect but ignored the prickling sensation of his cold skin being hit with heat as he made his way to the kitchen.

He had gone grocery shopping that morning, buying enough to get him through the rest of the week and then, after dropping them at home, had headed to the Apothecary to restock some of the ingredients he had used in the spells the day before. He had contemplated trying the summoning incantation again but…

No. No more mothballs. Not for a very, very long time.

Ben stepped into his kitchen and set the basket of potion ingredients on the counter. He started to pull them out to put away but froze once he looked up.

His cabinets and cupboards were all standing open, empty and forlorn in the early afternoon light. Food packages littered the countertops and floor. Crumbs had found a home on almost every surface in the room. The fridge door was closed but, based on the state of everything else, Ben had a feeling it would be empty if he looked inside. Dread flowed through him.

No. No way in hell. It just wasn’t possible.

He turned on his heel, looking around wildly. Seeing no one in the room, he whirled around and raced through his small cottage. First, he went into the casting room. It was empty, the sigils from the day before scrubbed clean from the floor late that night. Next, he moved down the hall to the bathroom. A peek inside proved it empty and he moved on. At the doorway to his bedroom, Ben stopped. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Hand trembling, he reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly. Still shaking, he pushed against the heavy, carved wood and leaned around the edge to look inside.

There, sprawled across his bed on her stomach, clad in a very skimpy, very lacy, very provocative lingerie set, was Rey. Her tail stood tall and proud in the air, swishing lazily and curling around itself every few seconds. Her legs were bent, feet also in the air, and they moved at a counterpoint to her tail.

Ben jerked back, hiding behind the door.

She was back. She was _back!_ _How?_

Resigning himself to dealing with the little food thieving demon, Ben pushed through the entry and settled his hands on his hips, hoping he looked at least half as intimidating as he liked to imagine he did. He was certainly dressed the part, in his opinion. His shirt was nicely starched and ironed and tucked into his perfectly tailored grey slacks. The suspenders on his shoulders were stretched taut and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. Rose often told him he looked like a stern professor, though she said it with a laugh so perhaps he was not as intimidating as he thought. Damn.

Rey looked up from the magazine she had laid out in front of her and grinned at him.

“Welcome home, darling,” she said, smirk firmly in place.

Ben ran a hand over his face, unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He settled for grimacing and glared at her.

“How in the hell did you get back here?” He asked. That same flush from the day before spread over Rey’s cheeks, neck and what he could see of the top of her breasts as he snarled out the words.

“I just,” she snapped her fingers, “you know?”

Ben shook his head.

“No,” he exclaimed, “I don’t know! You shouldn’t be able to come here, I sent you  _ back _ ! That reversing spell closed the gate!”

Rey’s grin grew sly and, at an almost agonizing pace, she slid her body back and up until she was sitting on her heels, legs bent and hands clasped demurely in her lap. Her tail, however, curled around her body, the pointed tip stroking slowly over her abdomen down to her legs and back up. Rey shivered, eyes growing hooded. Ben’s mouth watered. The black lace of her bra left little to the imagination and her panties were so miniscule, they might as well not exist. She cocked her head at him, eyes knowing, and that made him scowl. She laughed.

“Well,” she began, “as it turns out, your little spell didn’t exactly call me here it just,” she twirled a hand in the air next to her head, “opened the connection between us.”

Ben shook his head.

“What? What connection, what are you talking about?” He asked, growing more and more frustrated with her, himself and, just, everything in general.

“Well, dear, you see,” she tried to speak while continuing to laugh at him, “I was curious because you were right, your incantation shouldn’t have summoned me, so I asked Daddy about it. He said that we were already Bonded, since your birth in fact, and your spell just allowed me to finally come to you through the veil.”

Ben blinked at her.

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” His voice hit an embarrassing high note. “Did you just…” He shook his head. “Daddy?”

The look Rey sent him was derisive, much as it had been many times the day before, and he was sure that she was calling him an idiot in her head.

“Yes,” she said slowly, nodding, “I asked Daddy.”

Ben opened his mouth. Then he closed it. He worked his jaw and rolled his lips, feeling completely unmoored.

“Daddy.” It wasn’t a question. The next thing he said, however, was. “As in, your  _ father _ ?”

Again, slowly, Rey nodded, eyes wide and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she thought him a complete moron.

“As in, you have a father?” He went on, ignoring the heat in his face. “You have parents?”

Rey’s mouth puckered then and she rolled her lips in, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yes, I have parents,” she replied. “Daddy is Lucifer and Dad is Miriel.”

Ben blinked at her. Rey blinked back.

“You...you have two dads.” Again, not a question.

Rey answered anyway. “That’s correct,” she said with a sharp nod.

Ben felt weak. He meandered over to the bed and fell into the chair sitting next to it, by the window. Rey turned her body as he moved and, once he settled, fell onto her hands so that she was leaning toward him, her catlike pose making something in him twitch and grow hot. He ignored it, choosing instead to watch her watching him.

“Your father...wait...Lucifer?” He shot forward, placing his hands on the bed next to hers and leaning into her space. She jolted back from him in shock. “As in,  _ The Lucifer _ ?”

Rey snorted at him.

“Well, how many Lucifers do you know? I only know of one.” She said mockingly. Her tail brushed not so innocently against his left wrist, very nearly distracting him.

Ben narrowed his eyes at her. With a huff, she relented.

“Yes, The Lucifer.  _ That  _ Lucifer.” She said. “Lucifer is my Daddy, he birthed me, and Miriel is my Dad, he sired me.”

Ben blinked at her. Rey blinked back.

“ _ How? _ ” Ben burst out, startling Rey again.

She looked at him with bemusement but, then, that dangerous smirk of hers stole over her mouth. Ben’s spine tingled.

“Well,” Rey began slowly, tone low and dark but filled to the brim with unchecked mockery, “you see, Ben, when two people love each other, sometimes they want to act out that love physically. When that happens, occasionally, a baby…”

Ben leapt from his seat, interrupting her. He paced the small area between the bed and chair, running his hands through his hair and yanking on it in turns.

“I know how babies are made, thank you,” he snapped, “what I don’t understand is how your parents can both be male! Two men cannot make a baby! A man cannot give birth to a baby!”

Rey glared at him.

“Well, that’s rather bigotted of you,” she snapped back.

It took Ben a moment but when her meaning hit him, he stuttered out an apology.

“Sorry, I, yes...you’re right. So, wait, is Lucifer trans…”

Rey’s smirk stopped his question in its tracks.

“Oh, no. Both of my parents are definitely cis male,” she said and Ben was seriously beginning to consider strangling her.

He started to continue on his original line of questioning but decided it was more trouble than it was worth. Raising a hand in the stop position, he shook his head.

“You know what, never mind.” Something else occurred to him then. “Wait, so who is Miriel? Is he a lower class demon?”

Rey snorted out a laugh, wrapping her arms around her stomach and pitching forward. Ben forced his arms to abort their mission to catch her when she waved him off.

“No, of course not, don’t be silly.” She said between giggles. Ben decidedly ignored the way her laughter made her breasts bounce. Her next statement ensnared his attention. “He’s an angel, The Chief Prince, uh, oh! That’s right, you mortals know him as Michael.” She said this with obvious irritation. “So stupid, how could they get it so wrong? Honestly, mortals.”

Ben fell back into the chair, gaping at her. A breeze from the cracked window rolled over him, ruffling his hair and bringing with it the smell of rain and wet grass. Ben inhaled sharply.

“Michael,” he muttered, then louder, “Michael? As in…”

Rey quirked a smile at him.

“Yup, Michael, the Archangel.  _ That  _ Michael. But his name isn’t Michael,” she reiterated firmly, “it’s Miriel. Some stupid mortal heard his name wrong or something and now…” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Mortals are so dumb.”

Ben sat motionless, trying to comprehend what she was saying. Her fathers...one a demon,  _ The  _ demon and the other the most beloved and the fiercest warrior of all of God’s angels. The Prince of Darkness and the Chief Prince of Heaven. They had fallen in love? Had a child? This...this hellion sitting on his bed was their offspring?

“Yup,” Rey nodded again.

Why did she only look demon then? Shouldn’t she have a halo to go with those horns, wings to compliment the tail? Why didn’t she look like Miriel at all?

“But I do!” Rey exclaimed. “I have his eyes.” She said cheekily, tapping one long, elegant finger against her cheekbone below one eye. Then, she winked, sticking the tip of her tongue out and wiggling it at him.

Ben narrowed his eyes at her.

“Stop reading my mind,” he growled.

Rey shivered.

“I’m not reading your mind, not really,” she argued, “it’s more that...it’s the Bond, I think. I just... _ know _ . I know what you’re thinking and, I bet, if you tried, you would be able to hear what I’m thinking too.”

There it was again. The thing that Ben had desperately been ignoring until now. The Bond. The one her father,  _ Lucifer _ , told her about. A Bond between him and her. A Bond that has, apparently, existed since his birth. Ben wondered…

Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on her, staring into her gorgeous eyes and trying to figure out how he might be able to hear her thoughts as clearly as she could obviously hear his. It seemed like nothing, really. One moment, he was pondering and the next, her sweet but sinful voice was inside his head and he knew she likely didn’t intend for him to hear what was going through her mind. 

He glanced quickly down at her skimpy outfit and back up. 

Then again, perhaps she did.

_ ‘and wonder what he looks like underneath those stuffy old man clothes. Mmm. I bet he’s huge. He’s lanky but tall and clearly well-muscled. I know it. I just know his cock is enor…’ _

“Fuck!” Ben shouted, jumping from the chair once more. The wicked expression on Rey’s face confirmed for him that, yes, she did intend for him to hear all of that. He pointed a finger in her face and barked at her. “Not funny.”

He let out a wholly mortifying squeak and jumped back when she rushed forward and snapped at the offending finger with her teeth.

“Don’t stick your finger in my face,” she hissed. “I don’t like it.”

Shame filled him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Rey settled back on her heels again, looking mollified...barely.

“I’m hungry,” she announced.

Ben gawked at her.

“How in the hell can you possibly be hungry?” He shouted. “You’ve already eaten everything I bought this morning!”

“Not everything,” Rey argued, that fake innocent expression back on her face. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I didn’t eat the cucumbers.” She wrinkled her nose. “Cucumbers are gross.”

Cucumbers were gross. Ben only bought them because their juice made excellent bases for some of the more delicate potions he liked to brew.

He sighed.

“Well, I’m sorry, but as I’ve already said, you’ve eaten everything in the house that is even remotely edible. I have nothing else.”

He watched in horror as Rey’s eyes grew suspiciously wet and her mouth shifted into a particularly devastating moue. Her gaze dropped to her lap and she twisted her fingers together, giving off vibes of distress. Ben looked up at the ceiling, begging whatever powers that be to grant him just an ounce of patience. A soft sniffle had him looking back down at her.

“Fine,” he sighed out, “I’ll order a pizza.”

Her head shot up and her smile was nearly blinding. He was struck dumb by it until a thought occured to him, the scene in his kitchen flashing through his mind.

“Actually,” he amended, “maybe I should order a few pizzas.”

*****

In the end, he ordered five pizzas: two meat lovers, one pepperoni with double pepperoni, one plain cheese and one barbeque chicken monstrosity that Ben wasn’t sure qualified as pizza. All of this while Rey was hanging from his back, legs locked firmly around his waist and breasts crushed against him, her hands clutching his shoulders almost painfully, as she shouted into the phone he was holding that she wanted triple the cheese on all of the pizzas.

When the doorbell rang almost an hour later, it was only quick thinking and even quicker reflexes on Ben’s part that kept Rey from answering the door. While Ben was sure a woman answering in her underwear wasn’t anything a delivery person hadn’t seen before, he was positive that her horns and tail would do more than raise eyebrows. He managed to keep her hidden as he paid and took the boxes from the pimply teen but when he shut the door, Rey immediately snatched the boxes from him and raced back to the living room, shrieking giddily the whole way there.

When Ben caught up to her, she was already settled on the couch, pizza boxes in a stack on the coffee table and the first one open with two slices missing and another one in her hand. He watched with morbid fascination as she devoured the greasy, cheese and meat laden triangle in three bites. Her groan of absolute pleasure, followed by her sucking the grease from her fingers and licking her lips, had Ben’s cock standing at attention. He shifted in place and turned to subtly move...things...into a less conspicuous position. 

Sensing that he needed to move quickly when he turned back around only to see her moving on to the second pie, first box empty and tossed to the side, Ben dashed forward. He managed to wrestle four pieces of the pepperoni pizza from her, in spite of her snarling and snapping her teeth at his hands, and hunkered down with his prize in the wingback chair next to the fireplace. All four pieces were stacked on top of one another, even his large hands struggling to keep from dropping them. He looked back at Rey and startled at the awed, wide-eyed look she was giving him. No, the look she was giving his pizza. Her expression morphed into sheer delight and she proceeded to open another box, pulling out three slices of cheese and stacking them, alternating, with two slices of pepperoni. She then opened her mouth wide and bit into her pizza sandwich, moaning loudly.

Ben was...well, he wasn’t sure what he was, to be quite honest. Astounded? Of course. Appalled? Absolutely. Scandalized? To be sure. Terrified? Oh, no doubt.

Horny? Yes. Yes he was. Very, very horny.

He should not be horny watching this little menace of a demon stuffing her maw with pizza and keening over it like a filthy porn star but, to his eternal mortification, he was absolutely, one-hundred percent, turned on. Ben shifted in his seat and forced himself to turn his attention to his food. Slowly, he ate, painfully aware of every sigh, whimper and whine that came from Rey’s throat as she ate. His cock ached and he wondered if he was going to die of blue balls, right here in this chair and listening to Rey orgasm over pizza.

On a whole, he had to concede, there were worse ways to die.

Once he finished eating, Ben went to the kitchen and washed his hands. He took several minutes to will his erection away and then returned to the living room. Rey was splayed over the couch on her back, one leg trailing off the cushions to the floor. She had one arm draped across her face and the other was rubbing gently over her belly. She was humming with satisfaction. Ben could not help but notice a slight roundness to her middle that was not there previously and he flushed.

“Food baby,” Rey murmured, lovingly patting her stomach, as though in answer to his thoughts.

To be fair, it probably was. Ben hoped she hadn’t heard anything he had been thinking while she was eating. Her lips curled into a smirk and he knew that his hopes were in vain. He cleared his throat, neck and ears burning, and walked over to his bookshelves. He ignored Rey’s hums and sighs and perused the titles on the top shelf, looking for anything that might help him with his predicament.

“What’s the point?” Rey asked, breaking through the quiet in the room and making him jump.

He looked at her.

“What do you mean, what’s the point?” He asked, confused and frustrated. “You said your father told you there was a Bond. Did he say anything else? What kind of Bond? What it means for us? How to break it? Anything?”

Rey bolted into a sitting position at that and looked over her shoulder at him, glaring.

“And why,” she sneered, “would we want to break it?”

Ben blinked at her in bemusement.

“Uh, well,” he reached up and scratched the back of his neck, “I mean, surely you don’t want to be Bound to me for the rest of my life, right?”

Rey’s eyelashes fluttered quickly and she turned to him fully, rising onto her knees.

“Your life?” She cocked her head at him. “Oh, no darling, not your life. Forever.”

Ben started at that.

“What?”

Rey slunk off the couch and walked over to him, never breaking eye contact. When she stood less than a foot away, smelling of pizza and that underlying scent of, just,  _ Rey _ , she reached out and placed a hand on his chest, fingering his suspenders. Her tail skimmed up his hip to his stomach and brushed over the ab muscles hidden beneath his shirt.

“Forever, Ben,” she whispered. “This Bond, Daddy called it a Soul Bond. It’s forever.”

Ben stopped breathing. He felt dizzy and stumbled back, away from Rey and her wandering hands. She pouted at him.

“No,” he shook his head, “No, Rey, I’m sorry but...no. I can’t...I can’t be Bonded to a demon!”

Rey rolled her eyes at him and he felt a brief moment of relief when she didn’t start crying or appear at all upset at his declaration.

“Fine,” she said airily, “how do you intend to break it?”

Ben shook his head, still reeling. He looked back at the bookshelves and started pulling down any volume that might hold answers. Once he could carry no more, he moved over to his chair and sat down, shoving the empty pizza boxes out of the way and settling the books on the coffee table. Rey huffed out a sigh and made herself comfortable on the sofa again, glaring at him the whole time.

Ben ignored her. Desperation had taken over and he dove into reading with enough focus and zeal to rival Usain Bolt running for the Gold.

*****

The next time Ben looked up from his books, darkness had completely fallen and Rey was asleep on the couch. Ben felt something in his chest tighten and he stood, stretching his cramped muscles, and went over to the sofa. He knelt and slid his arms under Rey’s body and lifted her. He carried her down the hall and into his bedroom, laying her gently on the bed and pulling the covers up over her prone form. A little wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows and her mouth puckered into a pout. She sniffled and rolled over, pulling his extra pillow into her arms and snuggling into it with a happy sigh. Ben’s chest squeezed again. He ignored it. He drew the curtains, leaving the window cracked to allow the air to flow through the room, then turned off the lamp and shut the door, leaving Rey to her dreams.

Ben loped back down the hall but, at the last second, decided to make a detour before returning to the living room. He worked as quietly as he could, pulling out his kettle, filling it with water and settling it over the lit burner on his stove. Then he set about spooning out the appropriate amount of Maz’s citrine tea leaves into his tea pot and poured the hot water over it once he heard the kettle begin to boil, pulling it from the fire before it could start whistling and wake Rey up.

Tea pot and cup placed on his tray, he carried it into the living room and settled in for a long night of reading.

*****

The smell of pancakes and bacon woke him. The scent of rich coffee had him opening his eyes. His stomach growled as he sat up.

Rey was standing at the archway between the kitchen and living room, grinning widely. Ben registered that, somehow, she had changed her...clothes. Instead of the black lace, she was clad in dark green satin. The bralette covered a bit more than the little thing she had been wearing the day before but the panties...those were even more miniscule than the black ones had been. A glance to where her bottom was just visible confirmed that the tiny strings of the panties did not, in fact, become anything more substantial on her rear.

Ben swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry.

He noticed something sitting on the sofa and realized it was a gym bag. She had packed before coming here?

“Of course,” she chortled, “I can’t wear the same thing every day, silly.”

Ben wondered why she even bothered. Rey raised an eyebrow at his thought and reached up as though to pull the bralette off.

“No!” He shouted, one hand outstretched to stop her.

She smirked at him and turned around to stroll into the kitchen. Ben watched the muscles of her ass flex around the string nestled between her cheeks. Her tail waved in the air to the beat of her steps. He did his damnedest to keep from groaning but he could swear he felt a burst of wicked pride from her anyway.

He stood from his very uncomfortable-to-sleep-in chair and followed after her. Once in the kitchen, Ben stopped short. The island was covered in take-out boxes, each one filled to the brim with fluffy pancakes, lightly crisp french toast, fatty bacon, scrambled eggs with rich cheddar cheese, plump sausage, fried tomatoes, sourdough toast, butter biscuits and heaps of jam and butter. Ben’s mouth watered. He turned to Rey and gestured to the food as if to say, ‘explain, please’.

Rey’s grin grew wide. She clapped her hands together in excitement.

“Well,” she said, and damn if her joy wasn’t infectious, “I found your phone thingy and was able to unlock it...by the way, using your mom’s birthday as the passcode is adorable…” Ben flushed. “and I found this little square, after looking through all of the little squares, and it had food! All kinds of food! So I picked one of the food places that said it was open and ordered us breakfast! Oh, and don’t worry, I wore your coat and your funny little hat to answer the door.”

Ben wavered on his feet a little. He glanced at the food sitting on his counter, back to Rey, and back to the food. Swallowing nervously, he asked, “and, uh, which place did you order from?”

Rey’s eyes glowed.

“Here it is,” she grabbed his phone from the counter and typed in his passcode before opening the QuikEats delivery app. She showed him the screen where the receipt for the order was sitting, the words Amilyn’s Cafe at the top. Ben whimpered. Amilyn’s was...expensive, almost prohibitively so, and while Ben certainly wasn’t hurting for money, he did his best to keep it that way by pinching every penny he could. He was afraid to look at the receipt total but knew he had to, if only so he could balance his account later.

“One hundred and thirty-seven dollars,” he whispered, whimpering again.

Rey seemed to realize something was wrong. She dropped her arm holding the phone and looked at him with large eyes.

“Did...did I do something bad?”

She seemed genuinely upset that she might have done something to make him unhappy. Ben shook away his skinflint tendencies and offered her a small but sincere smile.

“No, of course not,” he said and his heart fluttered when her smile returned, “this is great. Thank you, I really am starving.” He gave her a wry smile, saying playfully, “someone didn’t let me eat very much of our dinner last night.”

It was Rey’s turn to blush and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Let’s eat!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air and twirling in place.

Ben figured that the fridge being empty might be a good thing. That meant that there would be enough room for the left…

He watched Rey shove two pancakes and three sausage links in her mouth and sighed. Right, no leftovers. Not with her here.

*****

“So, what did you find last night?” Rey called from the bedroom where she was changing once more.

Her zealous love affair with the french toast had left her...outfit...covered in syrup and she conceded that she probably should shower and change when Ben pointed out that the syrup was also all over her hands and arms and, somehow, in her hair.

“Nothing,” he called back.

He heard the bedroom door open and Rey appeared a moment later. The sight of her stole his breath away. The black lace had been sexy. The green satin had been nearly indecent. But this.

“Wow,” he breathed.

Rey grinned shyly and looked down. She was back in lace, and Ben found he preferred it to the satin, but this time it was pure white. It was both innocent looking and profoundly erotic and Ben knew he couldn’t hide his reaction from her this time so he let himself plop into his chair and crossed one leg over the other.

The strappy bra pushed her breasts up and his mouth watered with want. The panties she wore were high-waisted but when she turned around to show off, he realized that the cheeks barely covered her ass. He wanted to bite it.

The thought made him jolt and he willed the thoughts away, looking down at the book in his lap instead. Rey apparently wasn’t having any of it because she sauntered over, picked up the book and kicked his leg down. Once his lap was open and free from obstruction, she lowered herself to sit on it, giving him a smug look the whole time. Ben groaned. He clenched his fists on the arms of the chair and took several shallow breaths.

“Rey,” he growled, clear warning in his tone.

The sound made her whine and she shifted in his lap.

Ben closed his eyes.

“So, you didn’t find anything?” She asked breathily, leaning close.

Ben reopened his eyes and sent her a dark look.

“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed. The fact that Rey looked unsurprised made him irrationally irritable. “But I think I know someone who could help us.”

Rey waited, eyes hooded, for him to explain.

“My…” Ben trailed off, swallowed, then forced the words past his lips, “my mother. We need to go see my mother.”


	3. Really, Ben? Really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaha. Okay, I couldn't help myself. I love Luke but my head-cannon Luke is always a complete goofball.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> I am still working on Eosphora so no worries there.

Wrangling Rey into clothes was, somehow, even more difficult than conceding that they needed to seek help from his mother. They had argued for nearly an hour before she finally agreed to wear one of his hoodies. She refused pants, however, and rightfully pointed out that his shoes absolutely would not fit her so she remained barefoot. Ben shoved his “funny little hat” - his wide-brim gardening hat - atop her head to hide her horns and told her to slip her tail under the sweatshirt. Pouting, she complied.

Quickly, Ben rushed her from the house to his rarely used car and pushed her inside as soon as the passenger door was open, causing her to yelp in offense. Ben shut the door and looked around wildly, hoping none of his admittedly scarce neighbors had observed him manhandling a half naked woman from his home. Seeing nothing, he rounded the front of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. Rey was glaring at him, arms crossed and the end of her tail lashing furiously from where it peaked out from under the hoodie.

“Sorry, uh,” Ben started. Rey’s eyes narrowed further. “Sorry.”

He started the car and backed out of the drive slowly, keeping one eye on Rey and finally relaxing when her scowl slackened and disappeared in favor of watching the landscape in wonder. Ben was proud of his home. His little yellow cottage was nestled against the edge of a dense, bright forest right at the edge of town, allowing him to have privacy and plenty of nature to meander through when he felt the call to use his nature magics. It had once belonged to his grandmother and she had left it to him when she died. He had only been an infant then but he had always felt a particular pull to grandma Padmé. What he knew about her made him feel that she would have been a kindred spirit, someone he could go to when the world just seemed to be too much. He missed her, even if he had never known her.

He pulled onto the main road that would take them through the town proper and to the other end where his parent’s sprawling ranch home sat next to the river. A gasp of joy from Rey had him turning his head. She was cranking the window down, delicate nose wiggling as she sniffed the air. Her stomach rumbled and her eyes gleamed as they tracked each and every restaurant and fast food joint they passed. She turned to him with pleading eyes. Ben groaned.

“Seriously?” He asked. “Where do you put it all?”

Rey smirked at him and Ben noticed, for the first time, that she had small dimples in her cheeks when she did. Something bubbled in his chest.

With a put upon sigh, Ben maneuvered to the next lane and pulled in to the first tolerable fast food place he could find. He bypassed the parking lot in favor of the drive-through and slowed to a stop next to the speaker and backlit menu. Rey leaned over him, bracing one hand on his thigh, as she read the menu. The speaker gargled to life and a high-pitched voice welcomed them to Cane’s, stating “Hey, hey, want some hot, fresh chicken today?”

Rey giggled. She poked Ben in the stomach and began to rattle off what she wanted. Ben closed his eyes, wondering if it would be possible for her to put herself into a food coma. Unlikely, he decided. He shooed her away and lent his head out the window to order, waited patiently as the kid on the other side of the speaker repeated the order back to him and then pulled around to the first window to pay.

“Welcome to Cane’s, sir!” The boy at the window exclaimed. “You had three Canaics, a Box Combo, no slaw with extra fries on all of them, four extra pieces of toast, ten extra sauces and two large Cokes? Your total will be seventy-seven ninety-three.”

Ben irritably yanked his card from his wallet and handed it over. The kid slid the card and leaned down to hand it back to Ben with the receipt and stopped, eyes growing wide. Ben glanced at where the teen’s eyes had locked and realized that Rey was yanking on his hoodie, trying to get more comfortable and exposing her bare legs and panties to the kid’s line of sight.

Ben growled and snatched the card and receipt slip from the kid

“Eyes up,” he snapped.

The teen jumped back, eyes glassy and face red. He stuttered out an apology and Ben lurched the car forward to the next window. The older woman there passed him a large bag packed with styrofoam containers, either not seeing or not caring about his half naked passenger. Ben thanked her and handed the food to Rey to hold while he took their drinks. He pushed the edge of the bag in her lap out of the way and set the cups in the cup holders between the seats. He pulled out but had to slap Rey’s hand from the bag as he circled around the building and slid into a parking space at the back of the lot.

“Okay,” he said, “we’ll just eat here.”

He grabbed his Box Combo from the bag, before Rey could get her greedy little hands on it, as well as a couple of extra sauces (because, come on, they NEVER gave you enough). He ate quickly, wanting to get back on the road, but Rey still devoured two whole 6-piece boxes of chicken and fries before he was able to swallow his last bite. He waited patiently for her to eat the rest of her meal, which really took almost no time at all, and then shoved all of the trash into the bag and got out of the car to toss it in the waste bin nearby. When he got back in the car, Rey was leaning against the seat, smoothing her hand over her stomach and looking drunk.

“Mmm,” she moaned, “that might have been as good as pizza.”

Rey reached over and grabbed her drink, slurping out the last dregs from the size large cup. When she frowned and shook it, Ben rolled his eyes, took a sip from his own still mostly full cup and then handed it over to her. She squealed in delight and grabbed it, immediately beginning to drink. He chuckled as he put the car into reverse.

Once they were nearing the edge of town, Ben spoke up.

“My parents are…” he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Was he trying to warn her to be on her best behavior? Or was he trying to warn that his parents didn’t have a best behavior? “Ahem, just, try not to flash them, please?”

Rey laughed, bright and sharp.

“Aww, darling,” she whispered conspiratorially, “are you wanting to keep me for yourself?”

She ran a hand down his arm and squeezed his bicep. Ben swallowed hard.

“Just behave,” he retorted roughly.

*****

When they turned into the long drive up to his parent’s house, Ben tensed. Rey reached over and patted his leg and he relaxed somewhat. He parked and they got out. The whole way up the path to the front porch, Rey trotted along beside him, stopping occasionally to coo over the plethora of butterflies that swarmed his mother’s garden.

“There are so many!” She exclaimed with excitement.

Ben smiled at her. “It’s the Daylilies and Lavender. They attract butterflies.” He explained.

“Ooh,” Rey let out another cooing sound and then turned to him, smile bright, “we should plant some in our garden!”

Ben halted.  _ ‘Our garden?’  _ He thought, face and ears heating at the notion.

Rey was ahead of him now, already on the porch and poking the doorbell with little giggles escaping her mouth every time the fluttering chime rang. Ben rushed up the steps and grabbed her hand with his own to stop her. She relented but kept a fierce hold on his hand, refusing to let him let go. Ben felt his blush spread down to his neck.

The door opened. A tall, wiry man in a pale gold waistcoat blinked at them, then opened his arms in greeting.

“Master Ben, what a delight!” He said, exuberance sounding strange in his stiff, proper accent.

“Hey Three-Pio,” Ben gave a little wave, “Are my parents here?”

“Of course, Master Ben,” the butler replied, moving away from the door to allow them entry, “they are in the study.”

He led them through the house, Ben being pulled along by Rey who was bubbling with barely suppressed joy.

“I can’t wait to meet my new inlaws!” She cried happily.

Ben staggered on his feet. “What?”

Rey just turned and sent him a mischievous look over her shoulder. Her tail escaped the confines of the sweatshirt and proceeded to roll and curl over his shoulders and chest. He slapped at it and finally pulled his hand from Rey’s.

“Rey, we are here to…”

“Ah, here we are!” Three-Pio said, shutting down Ben’s protests. “Mistress Leia, Master Han, Master Ben has returned home!”

Ben fell into the room with a good shove from Rey and he felt her bound around to stand beside him, bouncing on her feet.

If Leia Organa-Solo was surprised to see a barely, and oddly, dressed woman in her son’s company, she made no move or mention of it. She sat regally on the pale blue settee near the balcony doors, her ivory silk dress flowing to puddle at her feet. Her Shadow, affectionately named R-2, hovered nearby, waiting silently. A large falcon was settled on the back of the couch near her head. Ben felt it the moment Rey spotted the bird. She squealed and darted forward, climbing onto the settee on her knees, not far from Leia, and peering at the falcon with wide eyes.

“I’ve never seen a Shifter like you before,” she said, awed, “you smell different, like…”

The falcon shook itself, ruffling its already ruffled feathers even more and lept from its perch, transforming in mid-air until a man stood behind the sofa and grinned down at her.

“Han Solo,” he introduced himself, “Shifter made, not born, s’probably why I smell strange. And who, my dear, are  _ you _ ?”

He sent Ben a roguish grin and wiggle of the eyebrows.

“She’s a demon, dear,” Leia spoke up, never lifting her eyes from the needlepoint in her hands, “an exceptionally powerful one, if I’m reading her right.”

Ben sighed. He knew this was a bad idea. Leia may have been acting nonplussed but he could tell she was practically quivering with questions. Might as well get this over with, then. He pulled the little spell book he had nicked from Maz out of his pocket, set himself in the chair nearest to his mother (ending up with a lapful of Rey not a second later, much to his father’s amusement) and began, haltingly, to explain everything that had happened.

The G rated version.

*****

Ben had heard his mother laugh, plenty of times. He had never heard, or seen, her laugh quite like this. Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was leant forward, clutching her mouth with one hand and swatting the other at Han, who was laughing just as hard, his booming voice rolling through the room. Ben scowled at them.

“Aww, your parents are wonderful, Ben!” She said to him, grinning madly, “And they’re so happy. They must be so much fun to hang out with!”

Ben groaned and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose while he struggled to reign in his temper.

“If you are quite done,” he growled. “We are here because we need your help and your childish behavior isn’t wanted nor is it appropriate.”

“Oh lighten up, kid,” Leia said between chortles, “you have to admit, this is hilarious. Honestly, only you could summon a demon, the child of Lucifer no less, with a spell that shouldn’t have made it possible.”

“It’s the Bond,” Rey helpfully reminded, sounding chipper. “The summoning spell only opened the gate and let me pass through the veil, it didn’t actually call me here...well…”

Ben looked down at her, eyebrow quirked in question. Rey fidgeted in his lap, hands clasped.

“I suppose it might have...urged me here? Like,” she waved her hands around, nearly clocking Ben in the face, “I suddenly felt this thread and I really,  _ really  _ wanted to follow it.”

Ben sighed. The headache that had been threatening him for the last half hour pulsed behind his eyelids. He felt a soft touch to his cheek and his eyes flew open. Rey was looking up at him, something almost like remorse in her own eyes, and was patting his face softly. Then, her face cleared and she turned back to Leia and Han, effervescent joy once more her primary expression.

Leia finally stopped laughing but her smile did not waiver.

“Well, I’m not sure what you expect me to do about this. I’ve never heard of the spell you described and with Maz out of town until Saturday, I’m afraid there isn’t anything we can do for the next couple of days” she said, waving his protests away. “But...perhaps your Uncle Luke might know something.”

That set Han to gaffawing all over again and Leia’s lips twitched as though she wanted to laugh too. Ben groaned, long and heavy. His chin dropped to his chest.

Not Luke. Anyone but Luke.

*****

Behind him, Ben could hear his father recounting the story of how he became a Shifter to Rey. Han had somehow managed to anger an particularly dark fae named Jabba, who turned him into a Falcon Shifter as punishment. Han always insisted the last laugh was his, though, since being thrust into the world of magic had allowed him to meet his wife.

Ben tuned him out. He stomped his way up the hill behind his uncle’s stone yurt, brow pulled down into a fierce scowl. He hated visiting Luke, mostly because the moron was the worst excuse for a witch Ben was sure had ever existed. How in the hell  _ anyone  _ could…

“Angry, you are,” a voice spoke.

Ben halted and Rey, who had been following him quietly but no less curious, stopped next to him. His parents stilled on the other side of him.

Ben looked down at the being that had spoken. A strange green thing with large ears and an odd manner of speaking, Luke’s Familiar, Yoda, was...well, he was something. What, no one could really say, but definitely something.

Rey dropped into a crouch and poked a finger at Yoda, nose scrunched in confusion.

“What’s this then? Benny! My favorite nephew and look, my sister and my best friend, all come to visit me!”

Rey’s head shot up and she gawked, jaw dropping as the bark of the gnarled tree Yoda sat beneath began to morph and a face appeared, looking worn and weathered and far older than Luke really was due to the rough texture of the trunk.

“You...your uncle is…” Rey stuttered.

Ben sighed. “A tree. Yes. Rey, meet Uncle Luke,” he gestured to the tree then back to the demon crouched beneath it, “Luke, meet Rey.”

Luke’s branches shook in greeting. Rey’s mouth hitched up in a half-smile, as though a smile wasn’t really how she wanted to respond.

“Rey,” Luke said, leaves quivering, “Why, my goodness, you’re a demon!”

Ben heaved out a sigh. He settled his hands on his hips and, beginning to pace, launched into the story one more time. While he spoke, Rey helpfully jumped in from time to time to add her own opinions (indecent ones, much to his mortification and his parents eternal amusement). At one point, Ben looked down at Yoda and nearly kicked the damned Familiar when he realized the thing had its head turned to the side and he was blatantly staring at Rey’s crotch where it was exposed from her position kneeling on the ground. Luke must have become aware of his Familiar’s perverted behavior because a root shot up out of the ground and smacked him over the head. Yoda frowned up at Luke but aquisesed and waddled further away.

“I see, I see,” Luke said, once they were done rehashing the tale, “so you seek to break this Bond?”

Ben nodded, relieved to finally be getting somewhere.

“Well, if what Rey said is true and this is a Soul Bond...hmm…” Luke trailed off, a single branch brushing low and scratching at where Luke’s chin might have been. It was hard to tell, really, since he was just a face made of bark. “Well, I think you need to check out the Book of Prophecy by Poe Dameron.”

Luke branches quivered in excitement.

“The Book of Prophecy?” Rey sounded intrigued.

Ben’s brow furrowed.

“Poe Dameron?” He asked. “I’ve never heard of this prophet.”

“Well,” Luke responded, drawing the word out slowly, “he isn’t actually a prophet.”

Ben blinked.

“Not a prophet.” He repeated. Luke’s branches shook in confirmation. “A witch then?”

Ben could hear his parently conversing quietly behind him but ignored them in favor of his uncle’s answer.

“Well, no, not a witch either,” he finally responded, “but his prophecies are startlingly accurate, considering…”

Ben scowled.

“Considering what?”

Luke hummed and his branches swayed, making the leaves tremble.

“Considering he is an ordinary, plain ol’ human who wrote the book while on a year-long, constant high.”

Ben groaned.

After going round in circles with Luke over the Prophecy book, Ben eventually agreed to take a look at it. He snorted out his goodbyes and pulled Rey after him. As they loped back down the hill, Ben could hear Luke talking to his parents.

“Could you maybe talk to Mara?” He asked them. “It’s been ever so long since I’ve seen her.”

He sounded so sad. Ben immediately felt bad for him. Tree or not (his own damned fault or not) not seeing his wife for several years because she was so pissed at him for accidentally turning himself into a damned tree to begin with had to be hard. As he and Rey passed the yurt, Ben stopped to speak to his aunt, Mara-Jade, where she worked in her garden. He whispered a few words to her, hugged her and then pulled Rey back to his car, leaving the family drama, at least that family drama, behind him.

*****

“So,” Rey said once they were back on the road, “where do we find this book?”

Ben frowned. “Luke said that Maz is the only one he knows who has a copy,” he replied.

Ben had told Rey about Maz earlier when he explained more about the book and how he had come across it. She nodded at him in understanding. Maz was gone at her brewing summit at least until Saturday, which left them two days of nothing to do until she returned.

Unless…

Ben grinned, feeling a little wicked but also hoping he might be right. He turned off the main road and onto the street that led to Maz’s shop, mentally crossing his fingers. Maz had keyed him into her wards but he wasn’t sure if that meant he could go into her shop when she wasn’t there. He hoped so. He would rather avoid a confrontation with about his theft of her book. Or, ast least, put it off as long as possible anyway.

He parked along the curb and looked around to make sure no one was watching before hurrying Rey to the door of the door of Maz’s Castle of Witchy Wares, hoping beyond hope that he would be able to unlock the door.

He didn’t even need to try. As they reached the glass front, the door opened and Maz stood there, scowling up at him from behind her coke-bottle glasses. Her Familiar, Chewy, a seven foot tall sasquatch of all things, loomed behind her, arms crossed over his furry chest.

“Well,” Maz hurrumped, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson about stealing, Ben Solo.” She gave Rey a once over and snorted, then turned and gestured them to come inside.

Ben sheepishly followed, leading Rey with a hand at the small of her back. She wiggled into it with a happy sigh. Ben’s ears burned.

“I, uh, I thought you were out of town,” Ben tried to explain, then realized that he had basically confessed to attempting to break into her shop. He winced.

“Oh I just bet you did,” Maz mumbled. “My book, if you please.”

Ben handed the book over into Maz’s waiting hand, unable to help noticing that while it looked tiny in his hand it was rather large in her own. The book’s origin suddenly occurred to him.

“You wrote this,” he said, awed.

“Of course I did,” Maz exclaimed, “and it wasn’t meant for you, boy.”

Ben hung his head in shame. “I’m so sorry, Maz, I really am. I just, I was curious and then I saw what looked like an incantation to call forth a spirit and cement a Bond and I...I was…” Ben closed his eyes with a sigh, “Maz, I’m so tired of being alone.”

The little witch’s scowl melted into sympathy. She reached out and patted him on the arm, then, with a wry smirk, nodded her head at Rey.

“Not alone now, are you?” She asked.

Rey nodded vigorously.

“That’s right, he has me now,” she agreed. “He’s not alone and I’m not alone anymore either.”

The sadness in her voice had Ben looking at her more closely. He hadn’t seen it before, too caught up in his own troubles, but it was there. She  _ was  _ lonely. Ben wondered what it must have been like, growing up a child caught between two worlds; likely, she didn’t fit in with the demons  _ or  _ the angels and so fit nowhere at all. His heart broke for her and he almost didn’t want to tell Maz why they were there.

“You want to break the Bond,” Maz said without preamble.

Ben started, then nodded slowly.

“We spoke to Luke, he recommended a book…”

Maz waved a hand at him. “I know the one,” she said and beckoned them up the stairs with her. 

At the top, she turned into the library and went immediately to a shelf on the far side of her desk. She pulled a large volume from beneath a stack of other, smaller, books and heaved it around to lay on her desk. Ben could see the title embossed in silver on the cover, the name Poe Dameron below it in curly script. Maz flipped through the book and stopped about a third of the way through. She tapped the page and pushed the book toward Ben and Rey. Together, they leaned down to read.

_ A Child of Dark and Light and a Child of Born and Made _

_ Together, Shall They Come _

_ And Together, Shall They Unite _

_ A Bond Formed, A Bond Unbreakable _

_ From Them, Nine Shall Come Forth _

_ And From Each, a New Beginning _

_ And Through Them, Shall Reign, _

_ A New Hope _

Ben’s gaze narrowed as he thought it through. He would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best at interpreting the pretty and convoluted language of prophets but this seemed deceptively easy and so was much more difficult to understand. He looked at Rey and found her smiling softly.

“Nine,” she whispered, trailing a slim finger over that particular line of the prophecy. “Nine is a lucky number in Hell, and in Heaven too.”

Ben scowled. Nine what?

At his unspoken question, Rey smirked at him and his mind was suddenly flooded with visions of...children!

He jolted up and stumbled back.

“Hmph,” Maz snorted again, apparently amused by his antics, “You see then? This Bond is meant to be.” She tapped the page again. “She is the child of dark and light and you are the child of born and made. You are meant to marry and in doing so, you will unite the light and dark magics and your children, all nine of them, will go on to solidify the unity you bring with their own special brands of magic.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times, clearing his throat and coughing into his fist. He was stalling, he knew, because he had no idea how to respond to that.

Rey looked up at him, eyes shining. She looked so damned happy. 

Ben wasn’t sure what to do at this point. He had wanted to break the Bond and free himself, and her, from this connection that neither of them had asked for and yet…

And yet…

*****

They left Maz’s in silence. Rey’s eyes were downcast, a frown pulling at her mouth. Ben felt guilty. His own obvious, what, reluctance, fear, anger? His own feelings had clearly taken her joy from her and squashed it like so much dirt beneath it’s metaphorical shoe. Still, what could he do? Prophecy or no, he just could not imagine himself Bound,  _ married _ , to a demon!  _ And children? _ Nine? Nine children! He shivered at the thought. He had honestly never imagined himself as a father, sure it was something at which he would be a massive failure so the thought of having nine kids left him feeling off-kilter.

The drive home was more than uncomfortable. Rey stared out the window, not saying a word, not even mustering up the energy to twitch her nose when they stopped at a light and the scent of steak and ribs permeated the car from the Saltgrass on the corner. Ben knew she was upset by that point and so, when he pulled into the drive and they made their way into the house, he couldn’t really be surprised when she turned to him with a resolute expression on her face.

“I should return home, let Daddy know I’m okay,” she said softly.

Ben couldn’t even begin to know how to respond to that so he just nodded. Rey gathered her bag and tossed Ben’s hat and hoodie on the sofa, then she looked up at him.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” she said, “just...just think about it, okay?”

Again, Ben could only nod. Rey sighed, snapped her fingers and vanished.

Ben’s chest ached.

*****

The wind howled angrily outside. Inside, the fire blazed, the tea was hot and spicy, the blankets were plush and soft and Ben Solo was miserable.

After Rey had left, he had gone into his kitchen, hoping to salvage some scraps for dinner. All that was left was one end piece of the loaf of sourdough he had bought, a few take-out packets of mustard, some cashews and the stupid cucumbers. A cucumber, cashew and mustard sandwich did not make for a tasty nor satisfying meal. Ben considered ordering something but couldn’t really find it in him to care, so disgusting sandwich it was. He choked it down with three large glasses of water, then shuffled off to the bathroom to take his first shower in nearly three days. Once clean and in his favorite sweatpants and worn, long-sleeve tee shirt, he headed back to the living room to light the fire.

As night fell, so too did Ben’s already low spirits.

He’d spent hours trying to read, folding laundry, mending his shirts and vests, organizing his sock drawer, anything to keep his mind off of Rey. Nothing worked. 

When he read something particularly funny or interesting, he looked up intending to share the passage with her, only to remember she wasn’t there.

While he folded his underwear, he imagined Rey teasing him and urging him to model them for her and then, perhaps, letting her peel them off of him.

As he stitched a seam on his favorite vest, he could almost feel Rey leaning over the side of his chair and touching him, silently begging him to pay attention to her.

Shuffling through his sock drawer, Ben could almost hear Rey rolling her eyes at his meticulous work matching his black and dark grey socks so that each one was with its correct partner.

Ben sighed, heavy and deep.

If Rey were here…

No. This was getting ridiculous. She had only been in his life for two days and not even two whole days at that. More like, a day and three fourths.

Ben’s stomach rumbled and he glanced at the clock. It was well past dinner time. Rey would have already been complaining an hour or more ago, begging him to let her pick something new to try on the food delivery app. He picked up his phone from the coffee table and opened the app. Scrolling through it, he stopped abruptly on Tatooine Tacos. Rey would like tacos. And probably nachos and burritos and quesadillas, too. Without even stopping to consider what he was doing, Ben went through the menu selecting a dozen soft tacos here and half a dozen burritos there along with ten quesadillas in various flavors and finished the order off with two large baskets of churros.

When the food arrived, Ben nearly broke into tears. As he bit into his first taco, flavor bursting across his tongue, he did cry. With each bite, he imagined Rey moaning and whimpering in delight around enormous mouthfuls, her cheeks stuffed to the brim and bulging out like a chipmunk preparing for winter hibernation. The tears only came faster. He couldn’t help but wonder how he must look, sitting in the near dark with only the fireplace to light the room, sobbing and eating increasingly soggy, overpriced Tex-Mex.

He wasn’t able to finish even half of the food. Carefully he wrapped up the leftovers and placed them in the fridge. Then, he turned out the light in the kitchen, banked the fire in the living room and shuffled down the hall to his bedroom.

The bed was still unmade from that morning, covers askew and one pillow smooshed into an unnatural shape from Rey clutching it to her in the night. Ben could almost see the outline her body had made in the memory-foam mattress. He rubbed a hand over his face.

He missed her damn it.

Shaking his head at himself, Ben crawled into the bed and snuggled down. He was immediately hit with a wall of Rey. Her scent, smokey and dark with just a hint of citrus, invaded his lungs. He nearly choked on it but couldn’t stop himself from rolling over and burying his face in the pillows and sheets, sucking in huge lungfuls of her intoxicating smell. He nuzzled his nose down into the pillow, mouthing over the fabric of the pillowcase as though to suck the flavor of her scent out of the threads. He shouted in annoyance once he realized what he was doing and pushed himself to lie on his back, clenching his eyes shut. His hands, curled into tight fists, lay at his sides, arms straining to keep them there instead of moving them to his cock, which was already, annoyingly, rock hard.

Ben began counting in his head, starting at five hundred and moving backward. With each number down, he took a steadying but shallow breath. By three hundred and twenty-three, his arms had relaxed. By two hundred and sixty, his fists unclenched and his hands spread to lay limply by his hips. By one hundred and two, his eyes began to flutter.

And on the unconscious whisper of ninety-nine, Ben finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title for this chapter: Really, Ben? Really? Also, Trees Should Not Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Translations are from the internet. If anyone actually speaks Scottish-Gaelic and wants to slap me over the head because I got these wrong, please do! Let me know if they need to be corrected, please!
> 
> Summoning Incantation: I summon thee, spirit of mine spirit, soul of mine soul. I summon thee and to thine, I do Bind thee, now and until death.
> 
> Reversal Incantation: As I summoned thee, now do I dismiss thee. I release thee and break this, the Binding of spirit to spirit, soul to soul. Thine spirit is free. Thine soul is unbound.


End file.
